Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Closing a Church, Appendix

Here are the sermon's I preached on the closing Sunday of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church.  The first was the regular morning service, the second was the official closing service in the afternoon.


I AM the Resurrection and the Life

          Jesus wept.  The shortest verse in the whole bible, but I also think one of the most profound.  God knows our pain.  God has felt loss, sadness and grief.  God has seen death and even with the knowledge that death has no victory, he still saw the pain of his friends, felt the loss of Lazarus and wept.

          I think sometimes we set pain in opposition to faith.  We assume that if we’re truly faithful we won’t experience pain.  We comfort each other and are comforted with phrases like, “Everything happens for a reason” and “It’s all part of God’s plan” as if true faith means denying death, loss, and grief.

          Often times we are our own worst critics, convincing ourselves that we should feel a certain way or that some feelings are okay and other are not.  Today we may feel sadness and loss, we may feel pride and joy, we may feel relief, or we may feel anger and resentment.  All of these feelings are okay.

          In the passage, Jesus encounters all kinds of emotions in his journey to Lazarus’ tomb.  Both sisters remind him that if he had been there, Lazarus would not have died.  Martha approaches him with confidence in his rising on the last day.  Mary approaches him with desperation, kneeling at his feet.  The Jews are sorrowful but some of them are confused – “Couldn’t he have prevented this?”  And maybe we ask Jesus the same question this morning – “Why did God let it get to this point?  Couldn’t he have done something?  Couldn’t he have come and prevented the closure of our church?”

          Jesus’ response to the question is “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?"  which is theologically accurate, but not emotionally satisfying.  Why did Jesus chose to let Lazarus die and whereas he healed so many other people, sparing them and their families the pain and grief of loss.  In the same way, why did God choose to bring Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, Fort Worth, TX to a close on October 28th, 2012 and yet seems to have performed miraculous revitalizations in other churches.  Of course it’s for the glory of God as Jesus said, but why does our church have to glorify God by dying while other churches get to glorify God by growing and expanding?  Sadly, we will never know.  We cannot understand the mysteries of God’s wisdom and providence and really have no answer but to trust God.

          We do however, know one thing: when we grieve, God grieves with us.  When we lament, God laments with us.  When we weep, God weeps with us.  God is not an impassive, impersonal, inhuman entity.  God is not arbitrary or detached or aloof.  God sees, God feels, God knows, and God cares.  One of the most profound differences between the triune God of the Christian religion and the God of other world faiths is that our God suffers – not just when we hurt others, but when we hurt.

          But even in the midst of that hurt, even as God grieves with us, he does not leave us without hope.  God offers us hope of what might be, visions of what could be and promises of what will be, not to deny our grief, but to offer us comfort during our grief.  Jesus reminds us, saying “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”  Jesus himself is the resurrection of all things, in all times, and all places.  Not only did he raise Lazarus, not only did he raise the little girl, not only was he himself raised, but he has raised all of us.  Jesus has raised each of us out of broken lives of fear, regret, hopelessness, and despair.  Jesus has raised each of us out of our shame, our inadequacy, and our loneliness.  We know Jesus is the resurrection because we have been resurrected.  We know Jesus is the life because of the life he has given us.  We know that even though we die, we will live because we have already died to our old selves and been born again as new creations.  We have been raised and we live, so we know that Jesus is the resurrection and the life.

          And so as we bid farewell to Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, we know that it too will live.  We know that Jesus’ promise of resurrection and eternal life are not just for individuals and not just for after we die, but are for organizations, churches, relationships, traditions, and legacies.  Jesus reminds us that he is the resurrection and the life, not to deny our grief, but to give us a hope, a vision, and a promise in the midst of our grief.  To remind us that he is here weeping with us and also that things aren’t over until he says they’re over and that he always gets the last word.  Jesus reminds us this morning that he could not be stopped with a whip, he could not be stopped with a cross, he could not be stopped with a rock, he could not be stopped with a tomb, he could not be stopped by death, he could not be stopped by sin, he could not be stopped by Satan himself – no, nothing in all creation can stop him.  Jesus lives and so we live and so our church will live.  Our church will live on in the relationships we maintain, in the experiences that formed us, in the knowledge we carry from Sunday School lessons, in the joy we shared in fellowship events, in the comfort we offered each other at funerals, in the humility we learned when we messed up and the grace we experienced when we were forgiven.  Our church will live on in the $350,000 dollars we gave away to the Night Shelter and Children’s Home and Union Gospel Mission and the Presbytery and Mo Ranch.  Our church will live on in Templo as they reach this neighborhood and bring the good news, and our church will live on in the congregation that buys this building and continues to use it to do God’s work and serve God’s people.

          Brothers and sisters in Christ, this is the hope, the vision, and the promise of Jesus Christ.  Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, Fort Worth, TX, even though it dies, will live and Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, Fort Worth, because it believes, will never die.  Because Jesus is light of the world.  Jesus is the bread of life.  Jesus is the good shepherd. Jesus is the gate.  Jesus is the vine.  Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.  And above all because Jesus is the resurrection and the life.  Brothers and sisters in Christ, members of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church…friends…In the name of Jesus Christ, the risen son – live.  Amen.

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To Be Continued…

          Here’s how you know you’re a dyed in the wool Presbyterian – you have favorite lines in the Book of Order.  One of my favorites was taken out when the new Book of Order was approved, but I think it still applies.  In the section on the mission of the church, the old Book of Order details all the different things the church exists to do, all the ways it can help people, all the goals and reasons that we believe God has for the church and then it ended with this paragraph:

The Church is called to undertake this mission even at the
risk of losing its life, trusting in God alone as the author and
giver of life, sharing the gospel, and doing those deeds in the
world that point beyond themselves to the new reality in Christ.

          What a challenge!  The church is called to do God’s work in the world, even at the risk of losing its own life.

          Now I know your relationship with the presbytery in the past has been shaky.  You are a, shall I say “unique” church.  Sometimes there has been distrust, sometimes resentment, sometimes frustration.  And maybe I only speak for myself, but I don’t think I do when I say that we can also add admiration.  Members and friends of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, you are to be commended and admired for taking the challenge in the Book of Order seriously.  This time you are unique in the Presbytery for your outstanding faith and courage: the faith and courage to dissolve a financially solvent congregation in order to follow a vision from God in which this building, your financial assets, and the time and talent of your people can be put to further use in other ways and in other places.  The Book of Order called you to serve God’s mission even at the risk of the life of the church and you have responded.  At the last supper Christ said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” and you have shown such love.  You are to be commended.

Now, of course Christ was speaking about the coming crucifixion when he too would give his life to answer God’s call.  He too had to die in order for God’s will to be done through him.  On Good Friday he was betrayed, arrested, tried, sentenced and executed and in the gospel of Mark in the passage we just read, we hear the story of what happened on Sunday.  The women came to the tomb and found the stone had already been rolled back.  A young man in a white robe was sitting in the tomb and told them that he had been raised and had gone ahead to Galilee.  And the last line of the gospel’s original ending reads: “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”  That’s it.  No resurrection appearances, no ascension into heaven, no great commission.  Mark does not have a happy ending, no “fade to black and roll credits”, no “happily ever after.”  Instead, Mark ends his gospel with a “To be continued…”  He is challenging us, the reader, the disciple, the Christian to finish the story with our own lives.  Mark is asking us, “Do you believe Christ lives on?”  “Do you believe the story continues?”  “Do you believe the work of Christ is still being done today?”  “Do you believe we are forever called to proclaim in word and deed the legacy of Jesus Christ?”  And so as we say goodbye to Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, I, like Mark, do not see today as an ending, happy or sad, but as a “to be continued...” and I challenge us all with the same questions: “Do you believe the Oakhurst Presbyterian Church lives on?”  “Do you believe that the story continues?”  “Do you believe the work of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church is still being done today and will still be done tomorrow and next week and as long as we are all still serving God?”  “Do you believe that we are forever called to proclaim in word and deed the legacy of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church?”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, friends and members of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church – the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were only the beginning of the story.  We know that Christ was raised, we know that the Holy Spirit descended, we know that the Body of Christ has grown and spread and proclaimed and ministered and we know that God lives and God’s mission goes on.  Rome could not stop it, Judas could not stop it, a cross could not stop it, a tomb could not stop it, a stone could not stop, death could not stop it, sin could not stop it, and hell itself could not stop it.  God’s mission lives.
As we go forward and grieve the loss of our beloved congregation and plug into new congregations, we will be faced with a choice.  Like the women at the tomb, we have the choice to say nothing to anyone because we are afraid – afraid of change, afraid of new people, afraid of abandonment, afraid of rejection.  We can let this be the end of the Oakhurst story and we can say “They lived sadly ever after.”  Or we have the choice to proclaim the good things God has done in our lives and in our world through the legacy of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church.  We can take what makes Oakhurst, Oakhurst and we can carry it into new places with new people to serve in new ways and make lives new.  We have the choice to make today a “to be continued…” and to write the rest of the story with the way that we, the member of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, Fort Worth, TX continue to serve the living God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  So, just as the young man in white challenged the women at the tomb, I challenge you today: “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, which has been dissolved.  It is not here but it has been raised.  This is the place it used to be, but go and tell everyone that it has gone on to Hurst and Arlington and downtown and Jacksboro and Ridgelea and to Texas and the United States and the world.  There you will see Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, just as you have been told.  It is not here.  It has been raised.”  In the name of the risen Lord, Jesus Christ, Amen.  To be continued…

Monday, October 29, 2012

Closing a Church

Yesterday (10/28/12) I led the closing worship service for Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, Fort Worth, TX ending 84 years of ministry.  I am still a bit raw, so my thoughts will also be so.  I am in no position to write a polished piece that ends with a nice bow tie, but perhaps this will make a more interesting read anyway.


Just for background information, I've served on staff at OPC for 7 years: 2 as the youth director and 5 as the called and installed solo pastor.  The church closed because we realized our assets, time, talent, and treasure could all be used to better use for God's kingdom if we moved on than if we continued to slowly but inevitably dwindle while our expenses and required time commitment increased.

Some assorted observations:

  • My key ring is a lot lighter.  I've been carrying around the keys to the church in my pocket everyday for the past 7 years.  I turned them in today and there is an actual physical sense of lightness, now that they are gone.
  • I don't have to think about my next sermon.  For 7 years (I was preaching regularly, even as the youth director) I've always been looking for the next sermon idea.  Even when I was on vacation, I was always percolating the next sermon idea or two because coming up with something worth saying every week is just hard to do.  I get the feeling that I when I hear someone say something wise, I will instinctively think "That would make a good sermon.  I should preach that." before I realize that I no longer have a pulpit.
  • The things I miss are not the things I thought I would.  I spent a lot of the last 7 years dreading visiting old ladies in nursing homes.  The visits were very nice, and I did them because I knew it was important, but it's just not a part of ministry that really blows my hair back.  Strangely, I think this will be one of the things I miss most. There's just something sacred about sitting down with a 90 year old lady, listening to her stories and praying with and for her.
  • The church is not the building, but the building still has meaning.  I found it just as hard to drop my keys off to an empty building as I did to say goodbye to all the people yesterday.  There's something much more final about saying goodbye to the building, because I know for a fact that I will never have the same relationship to that building.  I can kind of convince myself that my relationship with the people won't change, but I can't do the same for the building.
  • 84 years is a long time.  Not only was I not alive 84 years ago; my parents weren't alive 84 years ago.  As a bright eyed idealistic first call pastor fresh out of seminary, it was easy to discount "tradition" and inertia and to constantly wonder why change was so hard, but to see all the people who had been impacted by OPC over the years gathered in one place yesterday was a reminder that all the things I discounted had served OPC and its members very well in the past.
  • 7 years is a long time.  I have never stayed anywhere in my life for 7 years.  Elementary school was 6, middle school was 3, high school was 4 (broken up into 2 schools for 2 years each), college was 5, seminary was 3.  I have been a Christian for 12 years and I spent 7 of them at OPC.  It is the closest thing to a home church I've had.  Though I haven't spend 50 or 60 or 70 years there, it is a significant part of my journey of faith.
  • The pastor is always the pastor.  For better or worse, I will never be just friends with the people of OPC.  Even if I happen to bump into them 10 or 20 years down the line, I will still be their former pastor and not just their friend.
  • Grief sneaks up on you.  In all the busyness and anxiety of closing and in dealing with all the relief after years of confusion and sometimes frustration, I did not notice that I was grieving until about 3 weeks before the closing.  I just assumed that I was feeling fine (in large part because of denial) until I started feeling really depressed and couldn't understand why.  Then my wife was like, "Um...you're closing your church" and it dawned on me that I was grieving.
  • Grief is a funny thing.  I realized yesterday morning that I was looking to pick a fight with my wife.  I was moping around the house, resenting the dirty laundry on the floor and the kids toys everywhere and thinking all about how my wife was such a slacker.  Thankfully, before I did anything stupid, I recognized that this was also part of the grief process and I was looking for a scapegoat and a conflict to take my mind off the pain.  Acknowledging and naming it took its power away.

    Also, the weirdest memories came back to me.  Memories from years ago of just random stuff like playing Dance Dance Revolution with the kids of the church and funerals of people I hadn't thought about in quite a few years.  I guess endings tend to do that.
  • I cannot not proclaim the gospel.  Whether the church I serve is doing fine or closing, or whether I'm serving a church at all, I cannot help but proclaim the goodness of God.  In Luke, when Jesus makes his triumphal entry into Jerusalem "some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, 'Teacher, order your disciples to stop.'  He answered, 'I tell you, if these were silent, even the stones would shout out.'"  I am one of the stones.
To all those who have supported and prayed for me and Oakhurst Presbyterian Church over the years, "thank you."  To all the members and friends of Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, "Well done good and faithful servants.  You have been trustworthy in a few things.  I will put you in charge of many things.  Enter into the joy of your master."  God is up to something new and I can't wait to see what it is.